Why We Must Go On
propriocetion of an unhappy deltoid
the eyeball flambé of envy
and other itches stitches palsies and gouts
shout give up, throw it in, it’s too much!
such suggestions never make me waver
rather raise a stubborness in my endeavour
ring a bell far out in my stormy sea
inchcape finisterre inistrahull light
oh no stubborness is the star
stops me bailing out
keeps me bailing
in the teeth of howl gales bark
though land and home and sky are out of sight
and my unwilling bark
fills fast in time’s approaching night
and all is mist and sea’s unstable carp.
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